Xu Bei suddenly struck Sun Xiaohui’s head with the edge of his hand, delivering a ruthless scolding: “Didn’t I just tell you to focus on your studies? Wait until you’re an adult before playing games all day.”
“But… Xu Ge, you were really upset yesterday.” Sun Xiaohui rubbed her head and spoke softly.
“Who makes money without getting pissed off?” Xu Bei smiled broadly, feigning ease and indifference.
Just then, the door beside them slowly creaked open.
Sang Biao poked out half her head and said, “If you don’t mind, I can help.”
Xu Bei’s smile gradually faded.
It seemed this cyborg hadn’t taken his words seriously at all. Didn’t they agree to be just good neighbors now?
But his little brain was racing, analyzing the pros and cons.
Sang Biao’s background was unclear, but she didn’t seem like a bad person—at least not right now.
Her past remained a mystery.
Xu Bei already had a rough understanding of her combat abilities. She was a fighter among cyborgs, much sharper than the average person.
Most importantly, having a neighbor help meant no need to spend his own money buying a gaming headset!
Gaming was tricky in this regard—after all, playing games was for enjoyment.
But I’m a streamer; I’m here to make money.
However, if I get someone else to play with me, I don’t have to pay them, so they’re essentially helping me earn money for free.
“But the headset costs over ten thousand yuan. Do you have the money? You look even more free than me. Do you have a job?” Xu Bei pretended to be hesitant.
“No problem. I have eight million in retirement funds. I’m free all day anyway, so I can help.” Sang Biao replied.
Hearing this, Xu Bei felt an inexplicable sadness. Looks like he was the only one without money in this entire apartment building.
……
Xu Bei and Sun Xiaohui had lunch together with Sang Biao.
The two even offered their precious half-price bento boxes to Sang Biao.
Then they went to the convenience store to get Sang Biao a gaming headset and a copy of the “Dear Son” game.
“Xu Ge, Biao Jie, be careful on your way back.”
In the afternoon, Sun Xiaohui stayed working at the convenience store, leaving only Xu Bei and Sang Biao to return to the apartment.
“Hmm~” Xu Bei felt a bit puzzled all the way.
Sun Xiaohui didn’t show any suspicion about him hanging out with Sang Biao, but he couldn’t get away with glancing a few times at the female monster.
Maybe Sang Biao had told Xiao Sun about her once being a man? So Xiao Sun didn’t mind them being together.
That was for the best—avoiding misunderstandings.
“Let me ask you this— you know what virtual games are, right?” Xu Bei probed tentatively.
“I know a little.” Sang Biao responded.
Her voice was so soft, so she probably understood nothing about virtual games, just like Xu Bei himself a few days ago.
“You’ll know once you log in. It’s just like reality. For us who’ve been around Meteor Street, it’s especially easy to get into. It’s all fighting and killing again, but this time we can respawn infinitely.” Xu Bei smiled.
“Fighting and killing is my specialty.” Sang Biao said confidently at once.
As they spoke, they saw three old men sitting in electric wheelchairs racing past them.
Truly embodying the idea that men remain boys until death—one wrong move and the wheelchair becomes a coffin.
Xu Bei and Sang Biao didn’t feel much about it and kept walking.
Such strange things were far too common in civilized society.
Xu Bei thought the biggest difference between civilized society and Meteor Street was the sheer number of elderly people.
But these old men were lively, active every day. They played auto-chess in the park and would shout insults at each other all afternoon without pause.
Xu Bei’s vocabulary of curse words had expanded significantly over the past few days.
Meanwhile, people our age were lifeless, aimless, like walking corpses.
It was pathetic—we had dreamed of civilized life.
But once here, all we could do was play games, eat and sleep, and waste time.
……
Soon, Xu Bei and Sang Biao returned to the apartment.
“That Xiao Sun works all day playing on her phone. I wonder if she’ll get docked pay?”
Along the way, Xu Bei kept chatting with Sun Xiaohui on his phone and checking how to connect to the game.
He wasn’t a total gaming newbie anymore; he already knew how to open a small window to watch streams.
“So that’s it, I get it now.”
It turned out you just needed to select [Settings] on the game screen, then pick the nearest headset device to connect—simple.
Once two devices became friends, future connections could skip all that.
“Try it out first and get familiar with the virtual interface. You’ll also need to create an account and virtual character. I’ll head back and enter the game next door, waiting for you.”
After saying this, Xu Bei went back to his room.
He locked the door, lay on the bedding, put on the gaming headset, and entered the virtual interface—not directly the game.
Instead, he went into the settings menu, selected the nearest device, instantly linked to the headset in the next room, and sent an invitation.
Then…
Xu Bei waited stubbornly in the game interface for an hour.
During that time, he kept messaging Sang Biao through the game’s chat box.
And she really kept replying, proving she wasn’t a technological idiot.
But all she kept saying was: “Wait, almost done, making my face, almost finished, just wait, really almost done.”
An hour later, Sang Biao finally accepted his invitation.
They successfully formed a team and entered the game together.
“You’re even slower than me? What could possibly take so long making a face? Let me see how shockingly stunning it is.” Xu Bei couldn’t help but tease.
But he found he wasn’t born inside the familiar safehouse—instead, he was sitting in the passenger seat of a small car.
He pushed open the door, got out, and glanced around. The scenery felt strangely familiar.
An endlessly stretching dark road, a monstrous abandoned factory, and a rusty iron gate left open.
“Why am I back at the starting point?” Xu Bei exclaimed.
At the same time, a cool woman wearing a matching reporter’s suit stepped out from the driver’s seat, observing the rusty gate.
Her ID was 【White-Haired Idol】.
Apparently, she held a deep grudge against idols, even naming her game ID after one.
Her white hair was self-explanatory since her virtual avatar was silver-haired.
“Should we address each other by our real names or game IDs?” The silver-haired woman asked a very professional question, turning her back to Xu Bei.
The voice was unmistakably Sang Biao’s—no mistake in matching.
“In the virtual world, let’s just use our IDs.” Xu Bei replied.
“Unfilial child, let’s not pry into each other’s stories.” Sang Biao turned around, speaking with mock solemnity.
Xu Bei focused and saw that she wore a black mask covering her face, leaving only her eyes visible.